


Stop Talking

by Pikachunicorn



Series: Elevator Prompt [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angry Boyfriends, Elevator, M/M, Quentin is a tool, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikachunicorn/pseuds/Pikachunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As always, Daken is fed up with Quentin's 'jokes'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Talking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt where your OTP are forced to share an elevator after an argument. I haven't actually written one of these for my OTP (Wither x Elixir) yet, just Quentin x Daken, Cyclops x Angel and Hellion x Elixir.
> 
> Also, don't ask me what the joke was Quentin made, because I have no idea! I didn't actually plan one. I guess you can decide that for yourself. xD

"You're such a little shit." Daken growled, pushing up from the bed and rolling his eyes.

"You didn't seem to have any issues with me last night." Quentin smirked, sitting up under the sheets.

"That's because you weren't talking when I was screwing you! _Ugh_!" Daken pushed a hand through his hair, retrieve his pants and tugging them onto his legs.

"Oh, come on, Daken!" Quentin laughed, flicking his legs out of the bed and retrieving his own jeans. "It was a joke!"

"Wasn't funny." Daken shot his pink-haired lover a look as he began to button up his shirt.

"Daken." Quentin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he stood from the bed. "You know I didn't mean it."

"Whatever. I've got things to do." Daken tossed Quentin a shirt. "Get the hell out of my hotel room before I get back."

"Wait!" Quentin shrugged on the shirt and followed Daken through the penthouse suite. "Come on! You know, I- Daken! Wait!"

"Leave it, Quire!" Daken yelled, slamming the door behind him. Quentin rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he tugged the door open and jogged down the hallway after the older man. He tilted his head as he watched Daken enter the elevator. _Was he seriously running away over this?_ Quentin followed him, quickly diving between the closing elevator doors, which shut tightly behind him.

"Oh, you're kidding me!" Daken growled, smashing the _'Ground Floor'_ button as he spoke. "Couldn't you have waited for the next one?!"

"Nope." Quentin replied in the overly cheerful way he knew would irritate the hell out of Daken.

"You're literally the most annoying kid I've ever met." Daken's anger was partially lost now, replaced with pure exasperation.

"Thanks." Quentin leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it began to drop. "Listen, Daken. What I said about your-" Daken's growl cut him off. "Okay. So, my point is... I'm sorry. I guess. I didn't- Urrrm... I didn't mean it."

"You're not used to apologizing, are you?" Despite himself, Daken allowed the very smallest smirk to take his lips. Quentin was adorable, he couldn't deny that. Even if he was frustrating as hell.

"No." Quentin blushed, looking at his feet. "It's not really my thing. Admitting when you're wrong is for losers."

"I'm still pretty pissed at you, I hope you know that." Daken stated, before sighing heavily and slamming the _'Emergency Stop'_ button.

"Please don't kill me?" Quentin suggested, only half joking.

"I'll not gonna kill you, kid. As much as I want to, it would make too much of a mess, and I quite like this hotel." Daken laughed a perfect laugh that both terrified and excited Quentin no end. Everything was like that with Daken Akihiro. Every touch. Every _kiss_. Life or death. Quentin never knew quite what would happen. And that lead to him being scared out of his skin whilst also being insanely turned on.

"So, if you're not gonna kill me, can you at least do something useful?" Quentin dared, knowing that this could possibly push Daken back into _'you're a fucking shithead'_ zone, but taking the risk anyway.

"Are you _'something useful'_? 'Cause I'd love to do you." Daken smirked, amused by his own play on words, before crashing his lips to Quentin's, the emotion of the previous moment making the kiss all the more exhilarating.

"That was the worst chat up line ever." _But it still got me unbelievably hot for him._ Quentin completed the sentence in his mind, confused by his own body's reaction. _He must be using those damn pheromones._

"Stop talking, pinkie pie." Daken ordered, pulling open the shirt he'd lent Quentin. The buttons sprung from the fabric, bouncing around the floor and sounding light _'ping'_ s on the metallic walls.

"You're insane." Quentin whispered, finding the prospect of that deeply compelling.

"You just love that, don't you, Quire?" Daken whispered, taking Quentin's lower lip between his teeth and tugging lightly. "You love how fucked up I am. It turns you on. I can smell it on you."

"No. That's bullshit." Quentin avoided Daken's eyes. He was usually so great at lying. But not to Daken. _Never to Daken_.

"Then why do you keep coming back?" Daken smirked triumphantly. Quentin shrugged, a strange shyness to his movements. "Exactly. Now, I'm gonna give you the choice - you wanna head back upstairs, or do you just wanna give up and fuck in the elevator?"

"You're such an ass." Quentin murmured, before jumping up and wrapping his legs around Daken's waist. He kissed him deeply pushing his hands into the long, dark Mohawk. Pulling back, he pushed the hair from his eyes, panting. "I don't think I can resist you long enough to get upstairs."


End file.
